Poems (Sherwin)/To april
POEMS.
TO APRIL.
Sweet April, I hail thee with purest delight! Thy breezes, thy sunshine, thy showers; Thy buds which burst forth on the wondering sight, Thy leaves and thy gay springing flowers.
At thy joyous approaching all nature revives, The birds sing on every tree; The honey bees buzzing come forth from their hives, And the skylark mounts upward with glee.
White daisies appear and enamel the ground; The blue hyacinth tinges the plain: Each scene beams with hope, all is shining around, And the thrush sings his liveliest strain.
Then hail to thee season of gay smiling loves; May thy days no calamities bring:—But all England's children rejoice with her groves, And cheerfully welcome her spring.